I gaped. Did he just really...?
"Duck," my dear, considerate husband advised.
KA-BOOM!
The explosion ripped off the entire building's façade, blowing its scattered remnants all over the street. Something jagged shot towards me, aiming straight for my face, and—
Strong arms wrapped around me. In a blink, I was on the ground, something heavy and hard pressing me down. Something familiar.
"I said," came the cold voice of Rikkard Ambrose from directly above me, "duck!"
Splinters and sparks peppered the barrel we were hiding behind. The moment they stopped coming, Mr Ambrose slung me over his shoulder and started racing down the street.
Darn! That's not how you sweep a girl off her feet!
But apparently my dear husband disagreed. And a moment later, it proved to be a wise move. We had hardly passed the smouldering remains of the house when the back door exploded outward and thundering footsteps came up behind us.
Bloody stinking hell! Those people are still after us? What are they?
A gunshot rang out over the street.
Very eager to kill us, apparently.
My feet hit the ground as Mr Ambrose sat me down less than gently.
"Run!" he bellowed, gesturing for me to go ahead. When I just kept running beside him instead, the bloody stubborn idiot actually slowed down, placing him between myself and the gunmen.
"What's the matter?" I ground out. "Did your bloody legs shrink?"
"No."
"Well, apparently your brain did! They're shooting at us!"
"Which is why I am between you and them, Mrs Ambrose."
I wanted to turn around and smack him for his goddamn chauvinism! But...
Bam!
Yep, maybe later.
Speeding up, we dashed towards the outskirts of the town, and hopefully, the horses.
"You are dead now, fools!" came a very annoying voice from over Mr Ambrose's shoulder. Someone seemed to have woken up. "You will all feel se wrath of—"
Wham!
"—my fist?" I completed, blowing on my aching knuckles and smiling at the once more silent Spaniard. "Yep, you will."
"There!" Speeding up his steps, Mr Ambrose pointed ahead. "Carriages!"
Sweet words of salvation! A part of me couldn't help but remark on how, just yesterday, I couldn't help but want to get out of that hellish vehicle as soon as possible—and now I was running back to it as if my life depended on it. Because it did!
Irony, you are a bitch!
Gathering my last bits of strength, I raced up to the carriage and tore open its door.
"Please." Inclining my head to Karim, I gestured to his load. "Garbage first."
A moment later, an unconscious Spaniard flew past me and landed in the carriage with a thud. Mr Ambrose, as always not one to waste time, promptly sent his own parcel flying after the first one.
Wham!
Suddenly, I felt very lucky to be British.
Another gunshot rang in the distance—but not nearly distant enough.
YOU ARE READING
New Storm Rising
RomanceThis was NOT how Lilly had expected her honeymoon to go. Ever since their ship left the shore, she has been feeling dizzy, irritable and nauseous...and what the heck are these strange cravings she keeps having? Her brand-new husband is no help eith...
